


Nothing's Shining, Shining Like it Should

by WinterRose527



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, dark!Myrcella, dark!Robb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-07-24 09:47:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 12,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16172606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterRose527/pseuds/WinterRose527
Summary: That's right I've started another one. I'll update all the others, pinky promise.Myrcella and Robb are dark in this one. I won't go into why or how or anything because it's going to unfold.Hope you enjoy, or at least hate it in the good way.





	1. Chapter 1

He wasn’t sleeping. He didn’t fall asleep easily anymore. He just lay awake, all night, staring up at the ceiling, listening to the laughter and conversation of the other students as they walked through the quad.

 

He heard his window opening and out of the corner of his eye saw a leg hook over the window sill, followed by a golden head popping in and bringing the rest of her body with it.

 

She was naked by the time she got to the bed, lifting up his covers and straddling him.

 

She leaned down to kiss him and her breath smelled like gin.

 

“You’re drunk,” he told her.

 

“You don’t care,” she said back.

 

He kissed her then because she was right. He didn’t care and though he’d always preferred scotch he didn’t mind the taste of Tanqueray on her tongue.

 

He was inside of her in a moment, letting out a deep guttural cry against her lips. She road him hard and fast, the way she always did at first and he sat up to hold onto her. To make her slow down.

 

This was the only time he felt alive anymore. He didn’t want it to be over too soon.

 

He brought her against him again and again and he felt her nails taking purchase in his shoulders. He gripped her butt harshly in return.

 

It was normal for them to walk away with scratches and bruises. They marked one another, making it impossible or at the very least undesirable to end up with another in their bed.

 

If there was one thing that she cared about these days it was her reputation and she knew, if nothing else, that he could keep a secret.

 

She let out a moan and looked down to where their bodies joined, as though even after all this time she couldn’t quite believe what was happening. In the hours she was gone he almost forgot too and his eyes followed hers watching himself disappear again and again inside of her.

 

She breaks his concentration with another kiss and they set about devouring one another.

 

She speeds up once again and he doesn’t stop her this time, instead he helps her, pulling her against him more harshly. _Thwap, thwap, thwap._ The familiar sound of their bodies meeting mixing with the light screech of the old springs of the dorm mattress.

 

He doesn’t think of how many other students must have fucked in this bed. He only thinks of her and the way she is gripping his hair and the clench of her wet cunt around him and the way her breath is quickening in his ear.

 

“That’s it,” he tells her. He doesn’t call her _sweet girl_ or anything else. He doesn’t tell her that she’s beautiful or how good she feels. He just urges her onwards. “That’s it. Just like that.”

 

She doesn’t say anything at all. She never does.

 

She moans in his ear though and it’s sweeter than any lullaby. He feels her come, he entire body shudders and he forces himself to let go. He doesn’t want to. He wants to hold on, but it wouldn’t be fair.

 

They don’t kiss when they are done. She gets off of him and goes into his bathroom and washes herself off.

 

When she comes back out she pulls on her dress and her light jacket and leaves her panties right there on the floor. She leaves them for him to throw away, but he never does.

 

“You don’t have to leave,” he tells her.

 

Even though he only has a twin bed it would be alright if she stayed.

 

“Yes, I do,” she says, like always.

 

“Do you want me to walk you?,” he asked her.

 

“Do I ever?,” she asked him.

 

She never did, but he always offered.

 

“Will you come back tomorrow?,” he asked.

 

“I’m not sure,” she said, “Do you have other plans?”

 

“No,” he said, “I just can’t sleep if I don’t know if you’re coming or not.”

 

“You could always lock me out,” she pointed out.

 

He didn’t say anything to that. There was nothing to say to that. He’d never lock her out and she’d never commit to coming so really, there was no point to speaking at all. Perhaps that was why they rarely did.

 

“It’s October 4th,” she said, then added, “Our anniversary.”

 

“Fuck you, Ella,” he spat at her.


	2. Chapter 2

He wasn’t entirely sure why he was here.

 

He rarely went to parties, never here at the rugby house.

 

Even still when Theon had asked he hadn’t said no so here he was standing on the edge of the room as his classmates partied like it was the last days of Valyria. He sipped his scotch, Theon always had a strong supply and pretended to listen to whatever it was Margery Tyrell was going on about.

 

“Is that right?,” he asked her, buying himself a few more minutes.

 

She launched back into her story. He should be listening but he wasn’t. She was pretty and clever, but it didn’t matter.

 

Theon called him over to play beer pong and he excused himself, not bothering to see if she was upset by his leaving. It would be better if she was upset by him now, he had nothing to give her. Had nothing he wanted to give her.

 

He preferred beer pong because it gave him something to do with his hands and concentration was as good of an excuse as any not to talk. He and Theon made a good team and played game after game.

 

He was drunk by the time Theon nudged him saying, “Dude, incoming.”

 

He turned in the direction Theon was looking and saw Ella walking right towards him. There was a smile on her face which confused him. She never smiled.

 

She walked right over to him and kissed him and if she minded that his breath stank of scotch she didn’t say. Hers was minty and fresh and he kissed her deeper, wanting to tarnish that purity.

 

“Dance with me,” she said dreamily, pressing her body against his.

 

When she looked up her pupils were as big as saucers and the scotch abandoned his bloodstream.

 

He pushed her away from him but grabbed her wrists.

 

“What are you on, Ella?,” he demanded harshly.

 

She didn’t mind, she merely smiled again, “What does it matter?”

 

He shouldn’t find her nihilism attractive but it called to him more than any sweet words ever could.

 

He should tell her to drink some water. Tell her that he was taking her home. Those would have been sensible courses of action.

 

Instead he asked, “Do you have any more?”

 

She smiled again and wordlessly pulled a small plastic baggy out of the back pocket of her jeans. She did everything wordlessly nowadays if she could.

 

She took out a little pill and held it up to his lips.

 

“What will it do?,” he asked her.

 

“Make you like me,” she said.

 

He opened his mouth and she placed it upon his tongue. He knocked it back with his scotch, draining his glass and placed it on the beer pong table.

 

“Does it make you like me?,” he asked her.

 

“I like you fine,” she said dismissively, as though it didn’t much matter. “It’s myself I can’t stand.”

 

There was nothing much to say to a thing like that, so he took her hand and lead her into the throngs of bodies on the makeshift dance floor.

 

She started to move to the beat and he watched her. It was as though she was tethered to the base the way she moved in sympathy with it and she closed her eyes, a smile upon her lips.

 

He started moving as well. He wasn’t sure that he felt anything yet but he couldn’t look away from her smile, and before he knew it his body was moving in tandem with hers.

 

He reached for her and her eyes opened and she shook her head.

 

“Why not?,” he asked her.

 

She had asked him to dance after all.

 

“Not until you feel it,” she said.

 

He nodded as though that made sense, but it didn’t and she closed her eyes once again. She wore a black tank top and her hair was loose but she ran her hands through it and lifted it up as though she might twist it into a knot before letting it fall down around her. She smiled again and he felt the sudden urge to feel her hair in between his fingers.

 

More than that he felt his entire body raising. He felt his heart beating faster and he knew he was sweating a bit but his skin felt cool. His blood turned to champagne bubbles in his veins.

 

He closed his eyes, his mouth falling into a smile as he felt the music pull him this way and that.

 

He felt an electric caress on his shoulder and he opened his eyes to find Ella’s hand resting there.

 

He looked down at her face and the bubbles popped again and again until the only thing to do was take it in between his hands.

 

She wrapped her hands around his wrists and he felt it in his whole body, and she leaned the shallow weight of her head against his hand.

 

“What is this?,” he asked her.

 

“Temporary absolution,” she told him.

 

Her eyes were black holes that he lost himself in and her atoms reached out for his.

 

He wrapped her in his arms as they moved together. Her skin was pure silk, her hair a waterfall.

 

“Do you like me again?,” she asked hopefully in his ear.

 

“I never liked you,” he told her honestly.

 

Her kiss was wildfire.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For @mssnow, here's your next chapter love!

It was three weeks later before he heard his window sliding open again.

 

He hopped out of bed and crossed the short distance to her before she could even take off her coat.

 

“Where have you been?,” he demanded.

 

“The library,” she said and though he was gripping her harshly she showed no signs of fear.

 

“For weeks?,” he argued.

 

“What do you want me to say?,” she asked him hollowly.

 

He didn’t want her to say anything. There was no explanation that she could give to excuse her absence these past weeks that would satisfy him.

 

Three weeks he’d gone without feeling a single spark of life.

 

He shoved her coat off of her and captured her lips viciously in his. She surrendered herself to him, allowing herself to be kissed, taking all of his anger as though she deserved it.

 

Her sweater came next and then her plain white bra. She pulled down her jeans and panties and stood before him naked with no sign of apology in her eyes.

 

He dragged her over to the bed and shoved her over it, so that her upper body lay across it. He pulled down his boxers and entered her without preamble.

 

“Not again,” he demanded as he took up a rhythm.

 

Usually it was him slowing things down but not tonight. Not when it had been three long weeks since he felt the blood moving through his veins.

 

“Don’t do that again,” he clarified.

 

She went to grab his hand, saying nothing. She never said anything.

 

He took her hands in his and pinned them above her head, so that his entire body was covering hers.

 

“Don’t do it again,” he repeated.

 

“Okay,” she said quietly.

 

She never spoke when he was inside her and the surprise of it mixed with the feel of her threw him over the edge and he spent inside of her.

 

He pulled out of her and pushed himself away. She stayed like that, her body laying on his comforter, her hands balling it in her fists, her long legs and smooth butt on display.

 

He realised then that he hadn’t made her come. She always came.

 

He went back to her and knelt to the ground behind her and attacked her cunt with his mouth.

 

It was quick work and he felt her entire body shudder with the force of it.

 

He gripped her thighs, pressing kisses to the backs of them.

 

“Stop it,” she ordered.

 

She had not requested it when he fucked her harshly but a few soft kisses had her voice shaking.

 

“Ella,” he said, his hands trailing down her thighs softly.

 

“You told me not to stay away that long again, so don’t do this,” she said.

 

“What does that have to do with anything?,” he asked her.

 

She went silent again. He should have been used to it by now.


	4. Chapter 4

Robb woke up to the steady _bzzz bzzz bzzz_.

 

He didn’t look at the time, he only saw the name on the caller ID.

 

“Ella?,” he asked, rubbing his eyes.

 

“Say it,” she whispered.

 

“Ella what time is it?,” he asked.

 

She never called him. Too many words were needed over the phone.

 

“The _coo-coo_ says three but I’ve taken it once more around the park,” she said.

 

Her voice sounded medicated. Could be one of the xanax the doctors had prescribed or something harder, he couldn’t be sure.

 

“Where are you?,” he asked her, already getting out of bed.

 

“There,” she said.

 

His blood ran cold. He hadn’t known that it had been moving until it did.

 

“Ella…,” he started.

 

“It doesn’t look very far,” she reasoned. “Not _wooah_ not far at all.”

 

“Damn it, Ella,” he growled, pulling on his pants and stepping into his shoes.

 

He pulled on a sweater and grabbed his coat and another one, just in case.

 

“Tell me, Robby, _just once more_ ,” she requested and now he was running.

 

“Ella just stay put. _Stay put, do you hear me?,_ ” he growled.

 

“Why won’t you say it?,” she asked, “Is it not true anymore?”

 

He didn’t answer her, he just sprinted across the quad. He sprinted past the rugby pitch and by the library.

 

“Ella?,” he asked into the phone.

 

She didn’t answer and he started running faster.

 

“It would have been warmer than it is now. I think that’s good, don’t you think that’s good?,” she asked.

 

It was definitely not xanax. She never spoke this much on xanax. She never spoke this much at all.

 

“Ella,” he whimpered into the phone and ran faster.

 

He ran past the science building and the theater. He ran past his old freshman dorm, which meant he was close.

 

“ELLA!,” he shouted as soon as he saw her.

 

She looked at her phone as though she expected the sound to be coming from there and then at him. She wasn’t wearing a coat, not even a sweater, just a black long sleeved dress.

 

She was close. So close to the edge, but she didn’t look manic, only a little confused.

 

He got to her and pulled her, pulled her back from the railing. He could hear the river below. The deep, taunting sound of the current.

 

“Robb?,” she asked with concern.

 

She lifted her hand to his face and the pads of her fingertips pressed against the crease in his brow.

 

“Ella,” he said, closing his eyes and leaning into her touch.

 

“ _Say it_ ,” she pleaded.

 

He opened his eyes and saw tears in hers for the first time in months. They were so perfect and they made her eyes shimmer under the streetlamp.

 

He took the spare coat and wrapped it around her, pulling her against his chest. He could feel how cold her body was, rail thin after months of not eating, and he pressed his warm lips to her forehead.

 

“I’ve never liked you,” he promised her.

 

“Not even now?,” she asked in a small voice, her fingers between their bodies, gripping his sweater.

 

“Not even now,” he said. His hands gripped the back of her head, his lips pressing to her forehead and hair, fighting back the tears building in his eyes. “I’ve never liked you less than I do in this moment.”

 

She let out a sob and burrowed into him. It was entirely possible that his chest was going to explode, the blood within him pumping stubbornly, almost defiantly.

 

“He never liked her either,” she said.

 

“No,” he shook his head, “He never did.”

 

“Maybe they’d still be alive if he had.”


	5. Chapter 5

She knew before she opened her eyes that she was in somebody else’s bed.

 

She hadn’t woken up in a bed that was not her own in over a year.

 

She rubbed her eyes, it was clear from the dimness of the room that it was still early. She didn’t need to see the blue flannel sheets to know where she was. There was only one place she could be, and she could smell him.

 

She could only smell him, and she looked down to find herself in a sweatshirt that was not her own.

 

The fact that she was not overheating told her that he was not in the bed with her and she sat up and looked around the small room.

 

He was seated in his desk chair, his head slumped in a position that was bound to make him hurt for days.

 

He’d sat there all night. She couldn’t think about that though.

 

If she thought about that she’d start to cry and if she started to cry she might never stop.

 

She got out of bed as quietly as she could. It didn’t matter though.

 

“Don’t even think about it,” he said.

 

“Robb…,” she sighed.

 

He opened his eyes and picked his head up. His eyes were bloodshot and he stretched his neck this way and that.

 

“Don’t even think about it,” he said again.

 

She opened her mouth to protest but all that came out was, “I need to brush my teeth.”

 

Her breath was stale and her mouth was dry. She couldn’t think straight, couldn’t even think about how to get out of there until it was clean.

 

He got out of his chair and sighed, turning her around and all but pushing her into his bathroom.

 

He opened up the mirrored cabinet above his sink and pulled out his toothbrush, it was blue. He pulled out another, a green one still in it’s wrapper and unwrapped it for her. He took out the toothpaste and placed some toothpaste on it and then handed it to her, before adding the toothpaste to his own.

 

He didn’t give her any room. He stood behind her as though he didn’t trust her not to run. She couldn’t blame him.

 

They brushed their teeth in silence and she watched the toothpaste disappear down the drain. He took the toothbrush from her and rinsed it, placing it back on the shelf with his. He didn’t throw it in the trash. He placed it there like she might use it again.

 

Everything seemed to make her want to cry this morning.

 

He closed the cabinet and the sight of the pair of them made her flinch.

 

His eyes met hers in the mirror and he placed his hands on her shoulders. They were gentle and warm, but firm.

 

“This has to stop,” he told her.

 

She didn’t say anything. It was so much easier to stay silent. There was no knowing what she might say once she started speaking.

 

He pressed his lips to be back of her head, closing his eyes and holding her against him.

 

When he opened them there were tears in them and he broke into a sob.

 

“This has to stop,” he said again.

 

She fought the thickness in her throat.

 

His hands left her shoulders and his arms wrapped around her chest. He tugged her against him, as though she were nothing more than a stuffed animal and he buried his face in her neck.

 

“This has to stop,” he cried over and over again.

 

He might have said it twenty times when the deep swelling sob broke in her chest. Her knees buckled but it didn’t matter, she wasn’t supporting herself anyway.

 

She let out a scream, a wail, she wasn’t sure but either he or the walls of the small bathroom echoed it.

 

She moved and he locked his grip around her, but she gripped his t shirt to show him her intention. He loosened his grip a little and she turned around, pressing her cheek to his strong chest. Her arms went around him and she felt his hands smoothing her hair, his lips against her temple.

 

“I don’t know how,” she confessed.

 

“I’ll help you,” he promised.

 

“Say it again,” she requested.

 

“I’ve never liked you,” he assured her.

 

She squeezed him tighter and felt his grip tighten in return.

 

They stayed like that in silence for a long while. This was why she never stayed over. He made her weak. He always had.

 

Weak enough to tell him, “I love you too.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This will be the first of a few flashback chapters. Hope you enjoy.
> 
> I've been endeavouring to keep the chapters short on purpose, but I have a feeling I will increase the length going forward.

_4 October 2017_

 

_He woke with a pounding headache and a girl in his bed._

 

_Unfortunately, this was not an entirely unique situation. It had happened more often than he’d like to admit his freshman and sophomore years, but it had stopped suddenly that autumn._

 

_He wore only his boxers, which was more than usual and he turned slowly to see who the girl might be._

 

No. No no no.

 

_She looked like an angel. She even slept with a serene smile on her light pink lips. Her golden hair must have been curled the night before because it was mussed to perfection now, a lock of it draped over her face like a gauzy curtain._

 

_She was more clothed than him, wearing a t shirt with their former high school’s logo on it, and if the feeling on his calves was to be believed, a pair of his flannel pajama pants._

 

_He couldn’t help himself and pushed the hair off of her face gently. She let out a little sigh and then her eyelashes fluttered and her eyes opened slowly. The serene smile turned to a wide one and she closed her eyes again, as though she wanted to experience seeing him for the first time all over._

 

_“How long have you been looking at me?,” she asked._

 

_“Not long,” he told her. Not nearly long enough._

 

_“How do you feel?,” she asked, stretching like a cat and falling onto her back, bringing his comforter up to her chin._

 

_“Better than I deserve,” he answered, though last night was a blank._

 

 _“Oh I don’t know about that, everyone at the party was very grateful for your rendition of ‘I Will Survive’,” she giggled, intoning ‘hey hey’_.

 

_He smiled in spite of himself but said, “That’s not what I mean.”_

 

 _“What_ do _you mean?,” she asked, picking up his hand and bringing his palm to her forehead._

 

_She liked pressure when her head was hurting and he let it rest as dead weight on her smooth skin._

 

_“I mean this, Ella,” he sighed, “Us.”_

 

_“Nothing happened,” she said softly._

 

_“What?,” he asked._

 

 _“Nothing - well,_ that - _didn’t happen. You just wouldn’t let Trystane walk me back and insisted on walking me home yourself, but you walked me back here instead. When we got back I said I was going to walk to my room and you didn’t want me to walk on my own so I stayed…,” she told him._

 

_Now that she mentioned it he vaguely remembered telling her about a short cut to her dorm that happened to go by his dorm. He remembered her waving to him as Trystane handed her her jacket. He remembered crossing the party and putting a hand on Trystane’s chest to stop him from escorting her out._

 

_“Thank the gods,” he sighed, laying on his back._

 

_He closed his eyes and then heard a sniffle and a muffled little cry._

 

_He turned on his side and looked down at her, “Ella? Are you crying? What’s wrong sweetheart?”_

 

_“W-w-would that r-really bbe so t-errible?,” she asked, turning on her side away from him._

 

 _Ella never cried, she was more of a_ smile and the world will smile back _kind of girl and she was rarely daunted by anything._

 

_“Would what?,” he asked, turning her back as gently as he could. Her hands were in front of her face and if she wasn’t so obviously distraught the layers of this would be humorous. He pulled her hand away, and said, “Come on, honey, talk to me.”_

 

_“If…we…had…,” she said. She opened her eyes briefly and then shut them again, “I just thought things were different now that I was in college with you. I thought maybe you liked me.”_

 

_“Sweetheart, look at me,” he said. She didn’t do what he asked and so he repeated himself, “Look at me please, so you can know that I’m serious.”_

 

_She opened her eyes, and her bottom lipped trembled but she took a deep breath and steadied it._

 

 _“I’ve never liked you, Ella,” he said truthfully, the pad of his thumb pushing the tears off of her perfect face. He took a deep breath and shook his head, “I’ve always loved you. Always. I’ve been_ in _love with you since before I knew what that meant. Don’t you see, sweetheart? The idea of waking up with you in my bed is all I’ve wanted for so long… but not like this, after a drunken night out that I can only half remember.”_

 

_“You’ve never liked me?,” she asked with a smile. Her hand came and cupped his cheek, pulling him towards her. The pads of her fingers were like silk as they stroked the hollow of his cheekbone, “Not ever?”_

 

_“Never,” he promised, hovering over her and twirling a lock of her hair in his finger, “Never have never will.”_


	7. Chapter 7

Robb towelled himself off and heard his phone buzzing. He’d just gotten back from a run, he’d been trying to run and work out more now, again.

 

He saw that it was Ella and his heart stopped, “Where are you, are you okay?”

 

“I’m on my way to the library,” she said, “What’s wrong?”

 

The last time she’d called him, three days ago, had been the night on the bridge.

 

“N-nothing,” he said, because if there was nothing wrong with her there was nothing wrong with him.

 

“Okay well, I’ve got an Art History paper to write. Do you want to keep me company?,” she asked and he could practically hear her twirling her silky hair in her fingers as she waited for his response.

 

“Yeah!,” he said, a bit too excited for an evening in the library. “I’ll meet you there in ten minutes.”

 

“Okay,” she said quietly and hung up the phone.

 

He dressed in a hurry and packed his laptop and his poli-sci notebook in his bag and ran out the door.

 

He got to the library less than five minutes after they hung up and he looked around the first floor for Ella. He didn’t see her and the library had seven stories, so he texted her.

 

_Where are you?_

 

_There._

 

How many different places could that mean to them? How many spots did they have between the two of them that they’d both know, without any further explanation?

 

He got on the elevator and went up to the fourth floor. The sky had turned dark and a lot of people had left for dinner, and he went all the way to the back of the library to the small reading room with the fireplace.

 

He saw Ella sitting alone at one of the big oak tables, wearing a big white cable knit turtleneck. The tip of her nose was still pink from the cold but she was typing rapidly on her laptop already.

 

He went and sat in the seat next to her and she turned to look at him. She didn’t quite smile, she never did, but she started breathing easier. So did he.

 

He pulled out his laptop and his notebook and pulled up an essay that was due next week.

 

Ella bit her thumb nail as she looked between two works of art on her laptop.

 

“ _Pretty_ ,” he whispered, gesturing to the one closest to him.

 

“Orpheus and Eurydice,” she told him quietly.

 

“What’s their story?,” he asked.

 

He knew it but he couldn’t quite remember.

 

“She died before her time,” Ella explained, “And he went to the underworld to get her back. He was told he could take her on one condition, that he didn’t look back at her until she was out of Hades. He couldn’t do it though, he turned back to look at her and she was lost forever.”

 

“He failed her,” he concluded softly.

 

“He didn’t fail her,” Ella said quietly but vehemently. Her green eyes looked to his and she said, “He just didn’t know when to let her go.”

 

“And she died for it,” he said angrily.

 

“So did he, in the end,” she said with a sigh. She turned back to her computer and said, “That’s the tragedy of great love - nobody ever survives it.”


	8. Chapter 8

_October 4, 2017_

 

_He leaned down to kiss her, because at this point it seemed like the only thing to do._

 

_She stopped him with her palm to his face, and while he’d never faced much rejection in the past, this was by far the worst._

 

_“Did I…misread that?,” he asked, though that seemed nearly impossible._

 

_“No! I just… have morning breath…,” she said, turning away from him._

 

_“So do I…,” he pointed out to her._

 

_“I know it’s just…,” she said, picking at a thread on his bedspread, “You’ve kissed a lot of girls and -“_

 

_“Yeah but I’ve only ever loved one,” he reminded her._

 

_“But what if it’s the last first kiss of my life?,” she asked hopefully._

 

_“How am I supposed to not kiss you after you say something like that?,” he wondered aloud._

 

_In truth he’d gotten very good at not kissing her. He’d had enough practice over the years._

 

_He got out of bed though and pulled her with him. He brought her into his bathroom and opened up the cabinet above the sink._

 

_“You’ll have to use mine,” he said, handing her the toothbrush. “I’ll buy you one of your own though, to keep here.”_

 

_“Why?,” she asked with a cheeky grin, “Do you intend on inviting me back?”_

 

_“Hurry up,” he pleaded with her._

 

_She brushed her teeth and then put more toothpaste on the toothbrush and handed it to him. He brushed his as well and put it back into the cabinet._

 

_She looked down and so did he. She was drowning in his clothes but he found her hands and interlaced their fingers._

 

_Hers were warm and small and shaking slightly. He squeezed them, and let his index finger trace her palm._

 

_She moved closer to him and he moved closer to her and he buried his nose in her hair, breathing in her familiar sweet smell._

 

_The air around them got thick and she nudged her head up and then his lips were at her temple. She nuzzled against him and he was fairly certain this might kill him but it was the loveliest form of agony._

 

_She stood up on her tiptoes, her slight body leaning against him, and he captured her lips with his own._

 

_If he had planned it, he wouldn’t have planned the last first kiss of his life this way. He wouldn’t have planned it under the fluorescent lights of his dorm room bathroom. He wouldn’t have planned to be wearing only boxers or the raging headache he felt coming on._

 

_The only thing that fit into the plan was her. She was the plan. The all of it, the end of it._

 

_They parted and she giggled, “I can’t wait to tell Sansa.”_

 

_He groaned, “Were you thinking about my sister when I was kissing you?”_

 

_“Only a little,” she said slyly, wrapping her arms around his neck, “She’s just wanted this for so long. We have to tell her.”_

 

_“We will,” he agreed, knowing she was right. He leaned into kiss her again because he could and it felt like it was possibly the only thing he was supposed to do for the rest of his life. “But not yet… let’s just give it a day. Spend the day with me.”_

 

_“Just us?,” she grinned and kissed him again._

 

_“Just us,” he nodded._

 

_They’d tell Sansa, and Jon too. Tomorrow, after he’d kissed her another thousand times. They’d meet them at the diner and show up holding hands and Sansa would squeal and Jon would grin. He’d say ‘It’s about time’ and she’d smack him and say ‘Tell us everything’._

 

_Maybe it would even convince Jon to tell Sansa that he loved her too. Maybe this kind of happiness was contagious. Maybe it would be impossible to deny it any longer._

 

_But today was for them._

 

_After all they had the rest of their lives to tell their best friends._


	9. Chapter 9

Ella walked out of her literature course on Friday afternoon to find Robb there waiting for her. She wasn’t even sure how he knew her schedule, she’d never told it to him.

 

“Hi you,” he said.

 

“Hi you,” she returned.

 

As though it was normal.

 

“Can I take you somewhere?,” he asked.

 

She would ask where if it mattered, but it didn’t. So she simply nodded.

 

He took hold of her hand and she looked down at hers in his. She wore gloves, but he didn’t and she took her hand back.

 

His face fell but then she removed the glove and slid her hand back into his. Now he looked down at their hands and lifted them up, bringing the back of her hand to his lips.

 

She let out a giggle. It sounded foreign. It was.

 

She covered her mouth with her hand and he looked at her incredulously.

 

“What was that?,” he asked her, a hint of mirth in his voice.

 

“I don’t know,” she said honestly.

 

He nodded at her and squeezed her hand, tugging her along towards the student parking lot.

 

He let her in the passenger seat of his black SUV. She buckled her seatbelt and her eyes fell to the backseat and she blushed.

 

He opened the door and saw her and he swallowed hard before getting into the driver’s seat.

 

He pulled out of the parking lot and they drove through the main street of campus. They went by the library and his old freshman dorm.

 

“Robb,” she said.

 

Her throat started closing up and she found herself short of breath.

 

“It’s the only way to the highway,” he said, and reached for her hand.

 

She took his and held it with both of hers. He drove slowly, but they were on the other side of the bridge in mere moments. As though it wasn’t difficult at all.

 

“Breathe,” he told her, squeezing her hand, “Sweetheart I need you to breathe.”

 

“Where?,” she asked, because now it did matter. “Where are you taking me?”

 

“Home,” he told her.

 

“I don’t want to go there,” she shook her head. Even now he should know that. “I don’t want to see my family.”

 

“No, El,” he said, his speed accelerating as they got on the highway. “I’m taking you _home_. To Winterfell.”


	10. Chapter 10

_October 4, 2017_

 

_“WAIT UP,” Robb called._

 

_“HURRY UP,” Ella called back._

 

_They’d been apple picking on his family’s property when the rain started. Ella had laughed at first and then it had started coming down in earnest._

 

_She’d abandoned their booty and started sprinting through the orchard. He’d grabbed one of the bags and taken off after her, but she was a quick little thing._

 

_It was already muddy and he was afraid she would fall and twist her ankle. He didn’t want to end their first date in the emergency room. He didn’t want to end any date in the emergency room for that matter._

 

_She made it to his car and got in the front seat. He got in the driver’s and handed her the apples._

 

_“O-o-o-h m-m-my go-ooo-oodd,” Ella shivered out, blasting the heat._

 

_“These better be some good fucking apples,” Robb muttered._

 

_She started giggling, that bright tinkling laugh of hers that always cut through anything else in his world._

 

_He turned on the car and turned on the windshield wipers. It would be dark by now already, but with the rain it was truly impossible to see._

 

_They had spent the whole day together, just like he’d asked. They’d gone horseback riding and picked up lunch at Nan’s. He hadn’t even known what time it was until they’d gotten in the car because they’d left their phones in his dorm room._

 

_“We can’t drive in this,” Ella said, her voice back to normal._

 

_“You’re right,” he sighed, putting the car back in park and turning the heat to a reasonable temperature._

 

_“You know,” she said, “This would be an awfully good time for you to kiss me.”_

 

_“Is that right?,” he asked, with a grin, as it was not the first time she’d uttered that statement today._

 

_It had been a good time to kiss her when he’d helped her off her horse. It had been a good time to kiss her when he’d gotten her a cup of her favorite apple cider at Nan’s. It had been a good time to kiss her when they’d sat up on one of the tree branches._

 

_He couldn’t entirely disagree though, so he leaned forward, tilted her chin up and kissed her. Her lips were cold and wet but they were soft and sweet and they seemed made for his._

 

_She sighed against his lips and threaded her hands through his hair. He went to grab her but the steering wheel got in the way. He shifted and his knee hit the gear shift._

 

_“You’re too big,” she complained, kissing him again to sweeten the blow._

 

_She pushed him away and eased herself onto the center console. She gave him a wicked grin as she pushed herself into the backseat, landing with a delicate thud._

 

_“Sooo spacious back here,” she said, as though she were a real estate agent._

 

_He chuckled at her and followed her back quickly, landing with a less delicate thud and pulling her against him so that he could kiss her again._

 

_She hooked her leg over his and suddenly she was straddling him and they were kissing again and again._

 

_“El,” he breathed against her neck, gripping her waist._

 

_“I don’t want to stop,” she said breathlessly._

 

_“Are you sure?,” he asked._

 

_It would be her first time. He was sure she hadn’t envisioned it in the back of his car._

 

_“It’s so right for it to happen here. This has always been home to me,” she said, gesturing to his family’s property, “You’ve always been home to me.”_

 

_She looked him in the eyes and pulled her sweater up and over her head. The thin t shirt she was wearing underneath came next, leaving her in her light pink lacy bra._

 

_She had goosebumps on her skin and he pressed his lips to her collarbone. She shivered and he dragged his lips across, up to her edible shoulders and back towards her swanlike neck._

 

_Her small hands went to the hem of his sweater and she pulled it up and he tugged it off of himself. She pulled his t shirt off next and touched her index finger to the tuft of hair on his chest. Her brows knitted in consternation._

 

_He cupped her cheeks in his hand and tilted her face up to his, “What’s wrong?”_

 

_“You’re a man already,” she said._

 

_“Hardly that,” he said with a small smile._

 

_“I won’t know how,” she warned._

 

_He leaned his forehead against hers and sighed, “We’ll learn together. You’ll see.”_

 

_“You don’t mind?,” she asked._

 

_“Mind?,” he questioned._

 

_“That I’m not… more experienced?,” she asked._

 

_“Of course I don’t mind,” he said honestly, “I want to be your first, because I want to be your only.”_

 

_“I want to be your last,” she whispered against his lips._

 

_He leaned in and captured her lips again and soon they weren’t wearing any clothes. She was underneath him and her thighs were still cold but it was warm where their bodies were joined._

 

_It didn’t matter that she didn’t know how because they found their way to one another, the way things that are meant to be always seem to._

 

_“How do you feel?,” he asked her afterwards._

 

_He was leaning his back against the door and she was leaning her back against his chest. They’d found a blanket from tailgating in his trunk and were huddled underneath it together._

 

_“Hungry,” she said after a moment._

 

_He pushed her up gently and leaned in the front seat and grabbed the bag of apples. He settled back and pulled her to him, handing her an apple and grabbing one for himself._

 

_It was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted, sweet and crisp._

 

_They chomped away in silence for a few moments._

 

 _“Well,” she said, grabbing another, “These are good_ fucking _apples.”_

 

_“Ella,” he sputtered out._

 

_She giggled and he chuckled and she raised her apple to his lips and he took a bite, cleaning the juice that dribbled on her palm with his lips._

 

_She turned around and laid her body against his, looking up at him._

 

_“Say it again,” she ordered._

 

_He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and looked into her jade eyes._

 

_“I’ve never liked you,” he murmured, “Never have, never will.”_

 

_“I’ve always loved you,” she exulted, “Always have, always will.”_


	11. Chapter 11

“Turn the car around,” Ella ordered.

 

“No,” he said softly.

 

“TURN THE CAR AROUND,” she yelled at him.

 

It was the first time he’d seen her angry in over a year. He was used to her sadness, her ambivalence. This though. This was something different entirely.

 

This was life.

 

“The Ella Baratheon I know isn’t a coward,” he goaded her. “Or I should say, the Ella Baratheon I _knew_.”

 

“Don’t be such an asshole,” she spat.

 

“Don’t be such a brat,” he spat back.

 

She went silent.

 

“I was trying,” she said softly. He turned briefly to look at her and the betrayal in her eyes crushed him. “I was trying _for you_. Why isn’t that enough?”

 

“This will help,” he tried to assure her.

 

“Oh because _you_ know what’s best for me?,” she scoffed.

 

“Better than _you_. You’ve been living off gin and valium for god knows how long, Ella, you need _help_.”

 

“You said _you’d_ help me.”

 

“This is me helping you.”

 

“Well then I’m fucked.”

 

“This is my family you’re talking about, remember. You could try not to be so awful. All they’ve ever done is love you.”

 

“I know,” she said hollowly. “And how did I repay their love?”

 

***

 

_October 4, 2017_

 

_It seemed impossible to be so happy._

 

_The rain had finally stopped and they’d dressed each other slowly, pausing to kiss and laugh._

 

_The apples were half gone, he’d only been able to save the one bag from the rain and they’d skipped dinner._

 

_“October 4th,” she said softly._

 

_“Hmm?,” he asked her._

 

_“It’s October 4th. Today. The day my life changed forever. I just wanted to remember the date.”_

 

_“Should we get tattoos?,” he asked with a grin._

 

_“Yep, right on your butt,” she giggled._

 

_They were nearing campus when he saw the red and blue lights flashing. He placed his arm across Ella’s chest as he stopped the car._

 

_“What’s going on?,” she asked, trying as he was to see through the police barricade._

 

_His freshman year a kid had gotten drunk and jumped off, hitting the rocks below and died. He hoped it hadn’t happened again. He didn’t want her to know if it had._

 

_“Stay in the car,” he told her._

 

_“What? No! I’m coming with you,” she argued._

 

_He sighed and they both got out of the car. He crossed to her side and grabbed her hand and they walked forward._

 

_“Kids I need you to back up,” a police officer said as they approached._

 

_He heard wailing but somehow the rushing of the river’s current was what thrummed in his ears. He was filled with a dread that he could’t comprehend._

 

_“Robb,” Ella said quietly, squeezing his hand._

 

_He looked at her and her eyes were wide, as though she felt it too._

 

_“THAT’S MY SON!,” he heard a shout from across, “LET THEM THROUGH THAT’S MY SON.”_

 

_He turned around, hoping to see someone, anyone behind him. He didn’t want to be the son of anyone that could sound so heartbroken._

 

_The officer lifted the tape though and ushered him and Ella in. She held his hand and his arm, squeezing it reassuringly though she herself was shaking._

 

_All of a sudden his Dad’s hands were cupping his face harshly._

 

_“Are you hurt? Are you alright?,” he demanded, releasing him with one hand and cupping Ella by the back of her head, “Are you hurt, angel?”_

 

_“Dad. Dad we’re fine,” he said, but he knew it was a lie. He knew it. “Why…what happened.”_

 

_“Robb!?,” his mom wailed. Her face was distorted in grief as she sprinted towards him. “We’ve been calling you. Where have you been? Where have you been?!”_

 

_“Mom,” he said, his face crumbling, “Dad…where’s Sansa?”_

 

_Neither of his parents answered him. He looked at Ella and she broke away from them, rushing to a police officer._

 

_“Sansa Stark, was she here?,” she demanded._

 

_He went to go join her, but no one would tell them anything. They turned around to go back to his parents and that’s when they saw it._

 

_“No,” Ella defied, “No!”_

 

_The rail had broken, there were pieces of wood everywhere. It was a large hole. Big enough for a truck._

 

_“Where is she?,” he demanded._

 

_“No, no, no,” Ella said over and over again._

 

_“She’s gone kids,” his Dad said, “She’s gone.”_

 

_“God damn it!,” he cried, wishing there was something, anything he could hit, break, tear with his bare hands._

 

_“Robb, Robb,” his Dad said, taking hold of him. “There’s something you have to know.”_

 

_What? What could matter now?_

 

_“Jon was driving,” his Dad said._

 

_That didn’t make any sense. Where was he? He’d never leave her behind. He loved her. He -_

 

_There was no world for Jon Snow without Sansa Stark in it. If she left it he would not be far behind._

 

_“Dad…”_

 

_A fresh cry filled the night air and he turned to find Ella collapsing to the ground. Three officers went to catch her but none could get there quicker than him._

 

_“Ella,” he said as he caught her in his arms, falling to the ground cradling him._

 

_“Robb,” she cried._

 

_“Ella…,” he said, his forehead against hers, holding her tiny body in his arms like it was a life raft._

 

_“We were…while they… they… they…”_

 

***

 

“It wasn’t your fault,” he told her.

 

“You don’t believe that,” she said.

 

“You wanted to tell Sansa right away. I was the one who wanted you all to myself,” he said.

 

“I was the one who suggested we leave our phones behind,” she said.

 

Going back to his room the day after the funeral they’d finally retrieved their phones.

 

It had been like losing them all over again. The voicemails from Sansa and Jon and his parents. The text messages from Sansa begging him to come get her.

 

“If we had taken our phones then we could have gotten there,” she said. “We could have gotten there and they’d still be here. But we didn’t because I thought it would be more _romantic_ and while we were _fucking_ they were _dying_ and there’s nothing you can say that will convince me that it’s not my fault. There’s nothing you can say that will ever make it alright. Your parents shouldn’t have to look at the whore who killed their daughter.”

 

He had never heard her speak so harshly, and he had never heard anyone speak so harshly about her. If it had anyone else he would have hit them.

 

“They don’t think that,” he said, “They miss you.”

 

“How can they _miss_ me?,” she asked him. “I killed their daughter and I’ve _ruined_ their son.”

 

“Ruined me? How have you _ruined_ me? You’re the only thing that has kept my heart beating for the last thirteen months.”

 

“Don’t you see, Robb? Jon wasn’t Orpheus, you are! You don’t know when to let go. You’ve followed me into hell itself and you don’t realise that I’m never coming back. No matter what you do, I’ll never be the same.”

 

He pulled over to the side of the road and they sat in silence for a few minutes.

 

He was about to tell her that he’d take her back. That they’d try another day. That he wouldn’t push. He’d try to get her to see the school counselor and they’d forget this ever happened. They’d go to the library or watch a movie.

 

“No,” he said instead.

 

“No?,” she asked.

 

“I don’t accept that,” he told her. “You aren’t the only one who lost them Ella and I’m tired of you acting like you were.”

 

“Why do you think I drink gin or take a valium before I see you, Robb? Don’t you understand how hard it is sitting next to you, _being_ with you, knowing what I’ve done to you? Do you think it’s really _my_ pain that haunts me? I look at you and all I can see is what you’ve _lost_. I look in your beautiful blue eyes and I see Sansa, your favorite person in the world. I see you in your Direwolves sweatshirt and I remember the day you and Jon made the football team. You… are the love of my life and you’ve lost far too much for a boy your age and I can’t stand it. It makes me sick. It makes me wish I’d died with them because I can’t stand to be all you have left because I’m not _enough_.”

 

“How dare you?,” he asked her, tears pricking his eyes, “How dare you talk about leaving me on my own? I forbid it. You don’t get to leave me. I won’t survive it. Please, please don’t do this.”

 

“Shh, shhh,” she said and suddenly she was in his lap, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

 

He held onto her as a sob wracked his body.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she said again, “Shh shh I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going anywhere.”

 

He held onto her until the sobs stopped and she held onto him right back.

 

“It wasn’t going into Hades that was Orpheus’ mistake,” he reminded her. She looked at him and he said, “It’s never a mistake to try to rescue the people you love.”

 

“The mistake was looking back,” she agreed, tucking her head under his chin.


	12. Chapter 12

 

It was just like she remembered.

 

The large stone walls and the gracious courtyard, the oak tree off to the right under which she’d had her first kiss.

 

But Jon’s truck wasn’t in the driveway, and Sansa wasn’t behind that large oak door.

 

“Ready?,” Robb asked.

 

She turned to look at him and in that moment caught the most peculiar scent of citrus. And just like that she heard an engine starting.

 

_They’re welcoming me home._

 

“Ready.”

 

They got out and he walked around to her and took her hand. He squeezed it whenhe felt it shaking and raised it to his lips. In spite of herself, she felt a calm wash over her body.

 

They got to the front door and stupidly she waited for Robb to knock. But it was his house, and the front door was never locked, so he opened it.

 

“Mom? Dad?,” he called.

 

She felt her knees go weak when Ned Stark walked into the foyer calling, “Son?” He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her, and she wanted to run, or apologise, she wanted to disappear. He looked at her for a moment, his eyes scanning over her face as though trying to remember who she was. His eyes filled with tears and he said, “Oh angel, you’ve come back to us.”

 

Before she knew it, she was in his arms. She hadn’t felt the comfort of his embrace since the funeral, and she’d forgotten what it felt like to be hugged by him. To be loved by him.

 

“I’m sorry,” she cried, and he only squeezed her tighter, “I’m so sorry.”

 

“I’ve been so worried,” he said, stroking her hair, “Oh my angel, it’ll all be alright now. You’re here, you’re home.”

 

She hugged him tighter and looked at Robb. He was smiling at her, and to her immense surprise, she found herself smiling back.

 

***

 

He hadn’t seen Ella so light since the accident. She wasn’t back to her old self, and he had made peace with the fact that she may never be the same again, but she seemed happier, younger, than she had in some time.

 

His parents were thrilled that she was there. She and his Mom had taken a long walk together and Ella had come back with a flush on her cheeks from the cool air and a brightness in her eyes.

 

His Mom’s eyes had been red but she’d pressed a kiss to Ella’s temple as Ella rolled up her sleeves to help prepare dinner.

 

Arya too had nearly fallen over when she saw Ella, and rushed into her arms, dragging her upstairs to tell her everything she’d missed.

 

He’d gone and spent time with Bran and Rickon, playing video games. Bran was normally quiet and Rickon abnormally so, but even still it was comforting to spend time with them in the great room where smells from the kitchen wafted in.

 

“So Bran, your Mom told me that you won some competition for coding?,” Ella asked, “Is that right?”

 

“Yeah,” Bran nodded sheepishly, “I developed -“

 

“Don’t bother, Bran!,” Rickon suddenly raged, “She’s just going to disappear again!”

 

“Rickon!,” his Mom admonished. “Apologise at once.”

 

“No really, it’s alright,” Ella said, though her voice was shaking.

 

“NO!,” Rickon cried, “Sansa and Jon died and Ella LEFT! NO! I HATE HER!”

 

With that he pushed away from the table and ran out of the room. A few of the dogs chased after him and everyone at the table sat in silence.

 

“Ella,” his Dad started, “I’m so sorry… it’s been hard on him… you know how much he loves you. He just… he needs time…”

 

Ella shook her head, “He’s right. I abandoned him. All of you. That’s… that’s how you all should feel.”

 

“But we don’t,” Bran said.

 

“Well, I do kind of,” Arya said sheepishly. Everyone turned to look at her and she shook her head, “I’m not mad, and I understand but… you can’t do that again. I… I can’t lose you again.”

 

Ella nodded and wiped her cheeks, “You won’t, I promise. I’m sorry, truly, to all of you. More than you know,” and looked at him, “You most of all.”

 

He had never asked her to apologise. He never would ask her to. She had punished herself more than anyone else, and he had lived every day of the past year afraid that it was going to be her last.

 

“I’ll go talk to him,” he said and got up.

 

“Robb, wait,” his Mom pleaded, “Just give him some space.”

 

Robb shook his head, thinking about the crack in Rickon’s voice, thinking about when he had pleaded with Ella in his bathroom to stop. To come back to him. He knew what it was to be sitting right in front of her afraid that she was going to slip through his fingertips.

 

“Trust me,” he told her, “Space is the last thing he needs.”

 

***

 

She hadn’t had much of an appetite after Rickon walked away. They all sat dutifully through the rest of the meal, but nobody’s heart was really in it.

 

Afterwards she went upstairs and walked through the familiar halls. She got to one of the bedroom doors and took a deep breath and walked inside.

 

It was exactly the same. The same white eyelet bedspread, the same wicker trunk, the same window seat.

 

She opened the closet door and pulled out the sweater she’d gotten Sansa for her sixteenth birthday. She sniffed it and was surrounded by the smell of lemons and lavender.

 

_I love it!_

 

_Do you promise? You can return it if you don’t…_

 

_I love it, I love it, I love it! And I…love… you!_

 

She placed it back on the rack and touched the navy blue dress she’d worn to prom.

 

_You’re the best date a girl could ask for._

 

_Right backatcha, Ellabell, now… may I have this dance?_

 

She pulled out a sweatshirt next. A large one with _Night’s Watch Security_ written on it.

 

_When are you going to tell him?_

 

_I can’t, that’d be SO embarrassing._

 

_Not when he loves you too._

 

She put it back and closed the door, feeling a sense of whiplash. She walked over to Sansa’s desk and picked up a framed picture.

 

It was of the two of them on horseback, their cheeks pressed against one another’s, grinning from ear to ear.

 

 _You’re one of the lucky ones_ , she told herself, _Most people never get to have a friend like her_.

 

She put the picture frame back down on the desk and looked around. She had spent so many nights in this bedroom, so many days. She’d sat right here while they studied for their High Valyrian exam, had crawled into bed with Sansa when her older brother Joffrey broke up with her.

 

There had been countless evenings of laughter spent in here, secrets shared, vows made. So she made her one more.

 

 _I’ll take care of them,_ she promised, _All of them. Just like you’d want me to. I’m so sorry, Sansa. It isn’t fair, but I promise. None of them will ever feel abandoned again._

 

She picked up a bottle of perfume and raised it to her nose once more before setting it down. She walked to the door and gave one more look and turned off the light and closed the door.

 

She felt strong, stronger than she had in months, so she walked down the hallway to the last bedroom and knocked.

 

***

 

“I know, buddy,” Robb nodded, “I know it’s hard to understand. But sometimes when we are really sad, we can’t…”

 

He stopped when he heard a knock on the door and Ella poked her head in. She didn’t look at him, only Rickon.

 

“Can I come in?,” she asked him.

 

Rickon looked up at him and Robb smiled at him and he nodded solemnly.

 

She walked over and sat on the side of his bed, her hand roaming over the bedspread.

 

“I’m so sorry, Rickon,” she said, “You needed me and I left you and I’m so sorry.”

 

“You just went away,” Rickon cried, “I thought, I thought… I thought you were dead too, just like them.”

 

Robb felt tears spring to his eyes and he rubbed Rickon’s back. He couldn’t imagine how confusing the past year had been for his little brother, and though he’d tried to be there for him, he knew that he hadn’t done enough.

 

Ella nodded and said, “It must have felt like that. And there’s nothing that I can say that’ll make it better. I just want you to know that it wasn’t anything you did, it was just me. I was hurting really badly and I didn’t know how to stop hurting.”

 

“I would have helped you,” Rickon said nobly.

 

Ella’s face crumbled and she let out a sob, “I know, I know you would have. Of course you would have.” She wiped her tears and said, “But I think Sansa and Jon would want us to help each other now, so what do you say, Little Wolf? Will you give me one more chance?”

 

Rickon lunged forward into her arms, nearly knocking her over, but Ella caught him and held him to her. She kissed his forehead and stroked his hair and he looked no bigger than a stuffed animal in her arms.

 

“Can I get some of that?,” Robb asked helplessly.

 

Rickon and Ella started giggling, a sound he hadn’t heard from her in a long time, and urged him forward.

 

He wrapped them both in his arms and smiled when she whispered, “ _Thank you_ ,” in his ear.

 

***

 

After reading many bedtime stories, they finally convinced Rickon to go to sleep. They’d only managed it by promising that they’d both be there in the morning.

 

She hadn’t planned on sleeping over, but she knew that one of the guest bedrooms still had clothes of hers from when she used to spend weekends here. Besides, she wanted to wake up here, and she hadn’t wanted anything in a while.

 

It felt foreign, but it felt good too.

 

Robb closed the door behind them and stretched.

 

“Sorry about that,” he sighed, “I know that an overnight wasn’t part of the deal.”

 

“It’s okay,” she said, “I don’t mind.”

 

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but I’m exhausted,” he grinned sheepishly, “I might go to bed as well.”

 

She nodded, understanding completely, “Me too.”

 

“Okay well, your old room should have everything you need. Mom always made sure of it, just in case,” he told her and she swallowed down the lump in her throat. “So I guess I’ll see you in the morning…”

 

“Ohkay,” she said.

 

“Unless…,” he started.

 

He didn’t need to say anything else. She slipped her hand into his and he let out a shaky breath and lead her down the hall to his room.

 

He closed the door behind them and went to his drawers and pulled out two pairs of sweatpants and two t shirts.

 

“Take your pick,” he said, avoiding her gaze.

 

He had taken her in every way imaginable over the past year, but suddenly in his childhood bedroom, she felt like a virgin once again. He seemed like one too.

 

And he was still the only boy she ever wanted to be with. It was the only thing that hadn’t changed. That - and that this was still home. And it felt so right, that it would happen here, with him.

 

She pulled her sweater off and his eyes got wide but he looked away.

 

“Look at me,” she urged, unhooking her bra and letting it fall to the floor, “I want you to.”

 

His gaze flicked back to her face and then it trailed down her neck, to her breasts, down her abdomen. She undid her jeans and shimmied out of them, pulling her underwear down as well.

 

He had seen every part of her, but she’d never felt so exposed.

 

“You haven’t touched me,” she said softly, “Not since… not since that night on the bridge. And I know…I know that I put you through hell but I’m pulling myself out of it, you’re… you’re _dragging_ me out of it. And I just… need to know if I’ve lost that part of you, or if in time… you might start to want me again.”

 

“I want you now,” he confessed in a low voice. “I always want you,” he shook his head, “I’ve never stopped. You haven’t lost it, you can’t.”

 

“Show me then,” she pleaded, “I need you, Robb. Please. I need to feel it.”

 

He crossed to her and kissed her so passionately he took the wind from her. He picked her up, cradling in his arms and laid her down on the bed.

 

“Being with you, like this, this past year…,” he told her, pushing the hair off of her face, “It was the only time I felt anything. And that’s not true anymore. I feel, I feel all the time, I feel _everything_. But it’s still you, it’s still all for you.”

 

“I love you,” she whispered against his lips.

 

“I’ve never liked you,” he promised, taking her lips in his.


	13. Epilogue

_Five years later…_

 

“To, the lovely Ella Stark, may this be one in a long line of successes…,” her publisher, Barristen, toasted, raising his glass of champagne to her.

 

“Cheers,” everyone chorused.

 

“And to _The Grace of Wolves_ ,” he added, “May it bring me a very big paycheck.”

 

Ella waggled her finger at him and grinned, clinking her champagne glass against Arya’s.

 

It was hard to believe that it was already here. That her book had been released. She’d been on the tour for the past month, and had just finished her last round of interviews that morning, so she had earned the sip of champagne.

 

She set her glass down though and abandoned it without drinking more.

 

She wandered through the party, stopping to say hello to different friends from college who had come out to support her.

 

Before too long though, she made her way back to her family.

 

“How you holding up, angel?,” Ned asked her.

 

“Good,” she smiled brightly and he fixed her with a look, “A bit tired.”

 

“You just say the word and I’ll sneak you out the back no problem,” he told her conspiratorially.

 

She giggled and said, “Thanks Dad, I’ll let you know if the situation gets dire.”

 

He rubbed her arm and she continued wading through. A reporter from The Times was there and asked if she’d answer a few questions.

 

“Tell me about that town? Dovington, is it?,” the reporter asked, “Is it real?”

 

Ella smiled and said, “Not in so far that you can find it on a map. But it’s real, it’s that sleepover you have when you’ve just become best friends with someone and you stay up until it turns light out because there’s far too much to say, and it’s when your high school boyfriend scores the winning touchdown and finds you in the crowd, it’s parties in the woods. It’s a feeling, more than anything else - that you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

 

“This is your first novel to be published, but you are a very popular short story writer already. What made you decide to pursue this story in particular?”

 

“It started out as a short story,” she confessed, “It was just going to be twenty pages, all in that - well I don’t want to give anything away, but I’ll just say it really was just in the school, but as I started working through it I found that I wanted to know more about them, how these four people had come together and how their lives impacted one another’s. I just wanted to get to know them.”

 

“And I have no doubt that the rest of the world will be just as eager, thank you Ella.”

 

She thanked the reporter for coming and moved onto the next person. Her eyes scanned the room for one in particular and then she saw him, looking beautiful in his navy blue suit, laughing with Arya and Gendry.

 

He caught her eye and grinned at her and she grinned back. He cocked his head to the side and she nodded, gesturing towards the door.

 

They practically fell into the back of the town car her publisher had ordered for her and she closed her eyes and leaned against him as the driver started the car.

 

“Well,” Robb said, “Everyone insists that I married very well.”

 

She chuckled and glanced up at him, “And do you agree?”

 

He grinned and then shrugged, “I _guess_.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her forehead, “Barristen showed me the advanced copy of the review from The Chronicle. They love it - and you. I’m so proud of you.”

 

“It’s all because of you.”

 

He had been the one to suggest she start writing in the first place, and had always been so supportive. The therapist she’d started seeing in college had brought so many long buried emotions to the surface, and it had been Robb who thought writing them down might help.

 

He’d been right, and she’d published her first set of short stories before she’d graduated.

 

“What did it say?,” she wondered, being far too tired to look at her phone.

 

“It said,” Robb mused, “That your prose was _transcendent of period_ and that reading it was like stepping into a memory… that you captured a truth that people had always known but long forgotten. I thought it was only me, because I knew them, but apparently everyone -“

 

“Knew who?,” she asked.

 

“Jon and Sansa,” he said as though it were obvious. She glanced up at him and he fixed her with a very similar look to that which had adorned his father’s face only an hour before, “You can call them Kit and Alayne and change the colour of their hair and eyes but… it was them.”

 

Her cheeks grew warm and she said, “I didn’t realise it at first. I just couldn’t get the four of them out of my mind. By the time I knew what I was doing I couldn’t stop because I just…”

 

“Missed them,” he finished for her.

 

She glanced up at him, he was the only person alive who’d ever understood her intrinsically, who loved her completely unconditionally. He had proved it a thousand times over.

 

“Are you angry?,” she wondered. 

 

He smiled down at her, stroking her cheek and shook his head, “No, I’m not angry. Of course I’m not. You gave them the ending they deserved.”

 

It wasn’t a car accident in _The Grace of Wolves_. It was a shooting at the school. Kit and Alayne survive though, where Jon and Sansa didn’t.

 

“That conversation they have in the ambulance,” he went on, his throat thick, “When he tells her everything. That’s how I always imagined it. What it must have been like when they realised they weren’t going to get out of the car.”

 

She nodded, tears filling her eyes, but she smiled, “Me too. I like to think that in the end, they told each other. I like to think that they weren’t afraid.”

 

It had taken a long while for them both. There was no easy way to come to terms with your best friends, your siblings, dying far before their time.

 

They both still had bad days. She hadn’t eaten an apple since, and he wouldn’t let her drive in the rain.

 

But when their son was born, they hadn’t had to discuss a name, and when he sprouted dark curls and had a love of lemons they didn’t question it.

 

The truth was, neither of them would ever be the same, but they lived on for Jon and Sansa, and for one another, and after a while, for themselves, too.

 

And she loved him always. And he never liked her, not once.

 

 

_Six years earlier…_

 

_Water was everywhere. Rushing in from all sides. Jon looked to his right and saw Sansa, her forehead bleeding from where she’d banged it on the window._

 

_“I’m going to get you out,” he promised futilely, unbuckling her seatbelt, “Just stay awake, Sansa, stay with me sweet girl.”_

 

_“Jon?,” she asked dreamily, turning to look at him. A breathtaking smile overtook her face, “You came for me. I was so scared. But you came for me.”_

 

_“Of course I did,” he said, trying in vain to get his window to go down, his door to open._

 

_He banged his elbow against the window, he felt the bone shatter but it didn’t matter. He had to get her out of here._

 

_The water was spilling in the truck faster and faster now, it was up to his chest. He was still fighting when he felt her hand on his arm._

 

_“Jon,” she sighed, “There’s no point.”_

 

_He turned to her, tears in his eyes, “Sansa, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”_

 

_“It’s okay,” she cried, “We’re together, it’s alright. It’s alright.”_

 

_The water was rising and rising. Death was coming for them, he knew that now._

 

_“I love you, Sansa. I’ve always loved you,” he confessed, because he would not meet death as a coward or a liar._

 

_She smiled and shook her head, “No more than I’ve loved you.”_

 

_He kissed her then, and when he felt water at his chin he kissed her harder still._

 

_When the water rose above their heads he tried to fight, until he felt her hand on his cheek. He looked at her and she nodded, and he nodded back at her._

 

_She smiled at him once more, and then he watched her gulp, and the light dim in her blue eyes._

 

_There was no world for Jon Snow without Sansa Stark in it, and so he followed her, unafraid, into the next._


End file.
